The Curtain
by Garbage and City Lights
Summary: *siiigh* What a hopeless Draco hugger I am... ah, anywhos, this is what might've happened while Malfoy was in the hospital wing, 3rd year, for his hippogriff 'injury'. I added a certain character with the initials 'Meagan'... hee! o/" Draco meets this gir
1. The Curtain: Part 1

_A glint of sliver talons...  
An awful, piercing screech...  
A flash of angry eyes...  
Pain shooting up his arm, sharp and hot...  
Wet blood spreading across his body...  
Screams..._  
  
The boy in the bed shot up from sleep with a cry just as a bustle of white material scurried in through the doorway. The lock clicked softly behind the intruder. Draco drew his sheets up to his chin, scowling.  
"Madame Pomfrey, _please _announce yourself before just barging in!" The nurse only frowned right back and shoved a fresh quilt in his direction. _As if I weren't in a delicate condition,_ he thought darkly.  
"_Mr._ Malfoy, this is _my _infirmary. And you will do well to remember it." Pomfrey disappeared beyond the curtain to the boy's right with a roll of her eyes.  
"You get what you pay for," Draco muttered, scowl deepening as he began to unfold the new blanket. "A patient in this place has no--" His words were cut off as the pain shot up his arm, piercing and unexpected. He inhaled sharply and froze. The bandaged limb hanging limply at his side was suddenly and fully sore.  
"And I told you not to move that arm!" Draco frowned darkly, trying to maneuver the sling so he could smooth out the covers.  
"I'm not, Madame Pomfrey."  
"Don't lie to me, boy," she insisted, dashing back in with a rustle of the curtain.  
"Whatever you say," he grumbled. "Could I have a small bit of privacy, _please?_" Pomfrey gathered a pile of sheets in her arms and went behind the curtain.  
"I am preparing the room, Mr. Malfoy," her disembodied voice sniffed, "and I will be out of your hair soon enough."  
"You're in my hair so often I hardly noticed."  
"I heard that." Draco rolled his eyes, pulling the covers over his head.  
"Hear what you want, old bat, and let me sleep." Pomfrey charged back out with a bundle of old blankets in her arms. "And you seem to be in better spirits than this morning when Hagrid came in. I swear, all that griping and carrying on--" He crossed his arms beneath the sheet and moaned piteously.  
"I'm just being brave for you, Madame Pomfrey."  
"I'm sure you are. Be quiet and that arm will heal sooner."  
  
The room soon grew silent, allowing him to his thoughts. That stupid hippogriff Buckbeak had nearly given him a heart attack, but not much more than that. Draco knew very well that he had provoked the beast, but he hadn't expected the blasted creature to_ fight back_. He could still remember the wet blood against his robes, the ghastly scream he'd let out as the claws ripped into his flesh.  
"I'm dying!" he'd screeched, panicking immediately. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!" Draco cringed with disgust every time he thought of those words--how cowardly and spineless. Nevertheless, his fellow Slytherins felt sympathy for him and his arm was healing quickly. With another frown, he growled,  
"That bloody hippogriff will pay. I'll make sure of that."  
  
A single blue eye opened. Draco yawned and began to stretch, but stopped as the pain in his arm returned. _Blast, _he thought sullenly,_ When will the magic take effect? I'm nearly ready to cut my arm off. _Glancing around boredly, Draco guessed that it must be early morning. Suddenly, there was the creaking of a mattress to his right. The boy froze in his own bed, listening. The agitated squeaking of an old cot continued. Though the curtain blocked off his view, Draco knew someone was in the room with him.  
  
"Is there someone in there?" came a girl's voice, abrupt and surprising. "I'm on the other side of the curtain. I was asleep when they brought me in here, so I couldn't tell if I was sharing a room. I suppose that's why they put up a curtain. That is, unless they just wanted me to make an idiot out of myself. Well--" The voice stopped with a sigh. "--I guess there's no one else here." Draco found his voice again.  
"Wait, I'm here," he piped up, struggling to see past the curtain. It was awfully boring in the infirmary, and any type of company would be enjoyable--Potter and Company excluded, of course. There was a short pause.  
"Oh, hello," the girl's voice quipped pleasantly. "I was feeling like a terrible fool, talking to no one like that. What's your name?"  
"Draco." He kept the replies short and simple, should she be the friend of an enemy.  
"Hello, Draco. I'm Meagan. What year are you in?"  
"Third." My, this girl had a lot of questions. "And you?"  
"The same." Meagan paused shortly to sigh. "I hate this stuffy infirmary. I can hardly breathe. I need fresh air." Draco shifted slightly to make his arm more comfortable.  
"Why are you here?" he asked boredly, letting the syllables drawl. _Better not let her think I'm curious. _For the first time, her voice faltered.  
"Me? Oh...um... I'm rather embarrassed about it, actually." She laughed shakily. "A little mishap in Charms, I'm sad to say. Moved the whole bookshelf instead of the one book. It nearly fell on me, and I slipped trying to run. Sprained my ankle pretty good. It's feeling better, though," she added brightly. "And you?"  
"Accident in Care of Magical Creatures." Draco glanced down at his arm and winced. Meagan laughed.  
"Oh, so _you're _the boy the whole house is yammering on about." He blinked in surprise.  
"The whole house? You're in Slytherin?" She sighed again.  
"Well, yes. I was rather upset at first, actually, but it's all right once you learn to ignore the snotty ones." The girl chuckled softly. "Unfortunately, that's over half the house." Unable to help himself, Draco snickered a bit too.  
"I'm afraid you're right."  
"And am I also right in my gossip that you're about to lose that arm of yours?" He frowned. _That's _what they were talking about?  
"No!"  
"Relax, Draco, I'm only joking." There was a short pause. "Does it hurt? I imagine a hippogriff can do a lot of damage." Shifting a bit, he winced at the pain in his bandaged arm.  
"No, no. Of course not."  
"Really?" The covers in the other room rustled. "I'd think it would hurt a great deal." Another period of silence passed before Draco was suddenly bathed in light. Meagan's shadow was cast against the white curtain as an orange glow filled the room.  
"What's that?"  
"That's the sun, silly biscuit. I pulled up the shade on the window." There was a sigh. "Beautiful sunrise. Normally, I'd be sleeping, but I can't seem to drift off right now." The girl's shadow turned to look at him. "I wish you could see it too. It's really gorgeous, but I can't reach the--" She broke off, coughing hard. Draco jumped.  
"Are you all right?" Meagan kept coughing. "Meagan?" She wheezed and hacked, then finally eased back to normal.  
"I'm... I'm fine. Just a little catch in my throat." He frowned, wondering why he was suddenly concerned.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Positive." Her voice brightened. "Could you reach the curtain? It's too far, and I can't get out of bed." Meagan's voice dropped again. "My ankle hurts." Draco shifted again, reaching towards the curtain with his left arm. It crossed over his right and bumped the sling, nearly knocking it from the bandage. He stifled a cry, cringing. "What's wrong?" He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.  
"I said don't move that arm!" barked Pomfrey, out of sight. Meagan laughed quietly.  
"Big tough guy. So it _does _hurt." Draco began to defend himself, but she went on. "That's all right. A hippogriff nearly slashed your arm off. I expect it to hurt. If it didn't, I'd think you were some kind of cold, unfeeling bum." She laughed again, but he could hear the wheeze in her throat. He dismissed it quickly, settling back on his pillow.  
"Then call me Mr. Cold and Unfeeling."


	2. The Curtain: Part 2

It was just after lunch (Pomfrey refused to pull back the curtain, insisting they both needed their rest) when Meagan and Draco began talking again.  
"Draco, how exactly did you hurt your arm?" He stopped situating the blankets and froze. This girl was the only one he could talk to right now, and if he told her the truth, she'd think him a heel. If he lied, he wouldn't feel right.  
"I... I said something to the hippogriff, and he apparently didn't like it."  
"Apparently." There was a hint of a smirk in her voice.  
"Well, look at you," he retaliated, "moving a whole bookshelf. Lucky it didn't fall on you."  
"Yes," she murmured. "Pretty lucky." Meagan's voice rose. "You were pretty lucky too. The talons could've hit a bone." A sudden thought hit him.  
"It was that great brute Hagrid's fault," Draco sneered, thinking out loud. "If he'd warned me, I wouldn't have insulted the stupid animal." There was a thick silence for a moment. Then Meagan spoke.  
"As a matter of fact, I think he _did _warn us about the hippogriffs," she said, words quiet and deliberate, "and I _like _Hagrid." Draco reddened, glad the girl couldn't see him blush through the curtain.  
"Oh." He stared down at the blankets. "I'm sorry."  
"It's all right," she said casually. He could hear the girl shifting in bed. "Goodness, my legs are stiff. I wish I could walk around a little. I think they're going to fall off." Draco snickered a little.  
"You'd be a celebrity. A legless celebrity." Meagan moaned as her shadow placed a hand across its forehead.  
"I could be the poster child for Bookshelf Awareness Week." He grinned and leaned back on his pillow.  
"I can see the flyers now-- 'This is your brain. This is your brain under a bookshelf. Any questions?' " He could hear Meagan giggle beyond the curtain, then cough slightly.  
"Yes. There'll be rallies and everything. Little signs with bookshelves under a big red X." Draco smiled, but stopped when she started hacking again.  
"Are you sure you're all right?" Meagan tried to answer, but couldn't get any words past the racking coughs. To his horror, he found himself panicking again. What to do, who to call, _what to do..._  
  
"Madame Pomfrey! Madame Pomfrey!" Draco had to screech to raise his voice above the coughing. _"Madame Pomfrey!" _The nurse came racing in, a small vial of greenish liquid in her hand. She vanished behind the curtain.  
"Now, now, Miss Wiebler... shush, shush, drink this..." The coughs silenced as Meagan swallowed the potion. She gasped several times, then rasped,  
"Thank you, Madame--"  
"Don't talk. The potion has to take effect before you can use your voice again." She patted the covers, then her large shadow moved away from the curtain. Pomfrey left the room quickly, not sending a glance to Draco. He calmed himself rapidly, regulating his breathing. He'd gotten hysterical again.  
"Meagan?" he ventured softly. "Meagan?"  
"I'm not supposed to talk," she whispered. Draco went on quietly.  
"You're not in here for a sprained ankle, are you?" It was more of a statement than a question. The silence hung heavy in the infirmary before Meagan finally spoke in a hushed voice.  
"I caught it from a Muggle tourist," she whispered, clearing her throat slightly. "Something called Legionnaire's Disease. The wizard doctors are having trouble treating it. They're not sure if they can--" Her quiet voice shook a little. "Well, I'm just showing a few of the symptoms now. Headache, muscle aches, dry cough. Hopefully, it'll stop there."  
  
Draco sat in bed, stunned.  
"Could you...could you die from that?" Meagan didn't answer at first.  
"Maybe." Suddenly his arm didn't seem so drastic anymore.  
"What are the other symptoms?"  
"Fever, chills, abdominal pains, and fluid-filled lungs." She recited the ailments as if she'd heard them over and over. Draco swallowed.  
"I'm... I'm sorry."  
"Yeah." Meagan shifted in her bed uncomfortably. "Me too." He frowned and sank in his bed.  
"I can't believe they don't know how to treat it."  
"Neither can I. They can make a grass-flavored jellybean, but they can't cure a simple Muggle disease." He couldn't help himself; he smiled.  
"Yeah." Meagan coughed a little.  
"Yeah."  
  
Night fell as Draco and Meagan talked softly back and forth, making sure not to raise their volume. She told him about her family and her home while Draco stayed away from the subject of his own. The entire time, he kept thinking about how it wasn't possible that this girl he'd never seen, this girl who'd talked to him for only a day, could be dying. She sounded so bright and lively, not in the midst of a disease. It wasn't right. Teenagers didn't die.  
  
He never came out and said this, of course. Draco just asked what her dog's name was and the age of her sister. _Cuddles. Nine next May.  
  
_It was still dark when Draco awoke to soft coughs.  
"Meagan? Are you all right?" He sat up, his arm starting to feel better. Silence suddenly reigned, but not before he heard one last footfall.  
"I'm fine, Draco," she whispered, suddenly backing away from the curtain. He could see her feet scrambling away.  
"You're not supposed to be walking!" he hissed, struggling to sit up.  
"I'm fine," Meagan repeated, inching towards the bed. "I was kind of cold. I wanted a blanket, but I didn't want to wake anyone." She suddenly gasped and Draco could see her legs buckle as she fell to her knees.  
"You're not supposed to be up!" he snapped, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. "You could--" Meagan began coughing quietly, but tried to conceal it.  
"Don't," she wheezed, but Draco eased himself to the floor and pulled back the curtain. On the floor was a girl in a white nightgown, holding her throat as she coughed. She had blonde hair down to her shoulders and might've once had a full face, but seemed rather pale and thin. Meagan looked up with watery blue eyes, still trying to hold back the hacking. "I'm... really cold..." she managed. Draco, panic washing over him, hurried over to the cabinet.  
"I'm getting a blanket, just wait a minute!"  
"On the shelf... that little bottle... the green stuff..." He snatched a quilt and the small vial, then ran over to Meagan. He handed over the potion quickly, and she swallowed it eagerly. After a moment, she calmed and looked up. Reaching out, Meagan took the blanket and wrapped it around her gratefully. "Thank you... thank you..." Draco shifted his weight uncomfortably, but nodded.  
"Don't get up again," he warned, helping her to her feet with his one good arm. "Pomfrey'll be in here quicker than you can say 'quidditch'." She slid into her bed and pulled the curtain back a tiny bit, just enough so she could see across to his cot.  
"I won't. Thank you." Draco slipped under his blankets and nodded again.  
"Go to sleep."  
"Good night," she whispered. Then, shivering, she closed her eyes. He leaned and looked out the window of her room, seeing the moon. Then Draco's own eyes closed.


	3. The Curtain: Part 3

Shortly after the walking incident, Draco woke up to a tray being shoved in his direction.  
"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," Pomfrey ordered, tucking a napkin into his collar. He nearly screamed and fell out of bed, but calmed himself quickly.  
"Woman, you scared me out of my wits!" he squeaked, voice high-pitched from the fright. She rolled her eyes and stuck a fork in his hand.  
"Just eat." Pomfrey seized another tray and vanished behind the curtain. "Here, Miss Wiebler. Breakfast time." There was a soft cough.  
"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey."  
"Mm hm. How are you feeling?"  
"Better, I admit," Meagan said quietly, a bit of the rasp still clinging to her voice. Draco frowned down at the rubbery-looking eggs, then poked them with the fork. They wiggled.  
"Good. Now get some rest and I'll be in later to check your temperature." Pomfrey bustled out, heading for the door. "And I want all those eggs gone, understood?"  
"Understood, Madame Pomfrey. Thank you." The door closed again. Draco sniffed the breakfast, then made a face.  
"This is awful." Meagan poked at her food.  
"It's not that bad."  
"Not that bad, my foot! I think my bacon just oinked at me." She scraped her fork on her plate, then giggled.  
"You're right. It is awful." He heard her tray slide across the sheets as he pushed his own away.  
"Naturally. I'm always right." Meagan sighed lightly and pushed the covers away, leaning back to look at Draco.  
"Draco, about last night--" He shifted uncomfortably and glanced away.  
"Don't mention it," he murmured.  
"No, I need to. Thanks for helping me and not telling Pomfrey." Draco shrugged.  
"It wasn't that--"  
"Just say 'you're welcome' and get it over with." He blinked as she chuckled again. "I know it's going to kill you, so just do it quickly." He scratched his eyebrow absently, then muttered,  
"Yer wlkm." Meagan cupped a hand to her ear.  
"What's that? I can't seem to hear you."  
"Yer wlkm." She shook her head and sighed.  
"No, I'm just not hearing it. Must be this sterile hospital air or something. Try again?" Draco made a sound of indignance, then crossed his arms and sighed heavily.  
_"You're welcome, okay?"_ She blinked, then began laughing so hard she nearly doubled over in the process.  
"Oh, that almost killed you, didn't it?" He craned his neck to see past the curtain.  
"Don't, you'll--" Sure enough, Meagan coughed a bit, then gave a little yelp.  
"Ow! I mean, I'm fine. It was just so rich to see your face get all scrunched up like that." He must've made the same kind of face, because she started giggling again. "You... you look like a turkey trying to do algebra!"  
"Oh, yes. I'm hilarious, aren't I?" he grumbled, but the mirth was contagious and Draco soon laughed too.  
  
"How, after all, the ways that lie between, the roads that were for you and not for me--" The words were sudden and unexpected. He frowned.  
"What's that?" Draco could hear pages fluttering.  
"It's a poem from my book. It's called, 'After All'. It's really pretty. You want to hear it?"  
"Sure." Meagan drew a deep breath and continued reading.  
"A summer pasture-land, a bloom-bent tree, and twilight through a mist of amber sheen; for oft times are my footprints scarcely seen, but on steep crags above a stormy sea, yet always in my vision tenderly, a little branch of blossoms and of green." She stopped to cough a little.  
"Keep going." Meagan sighed lightly.  
"I'm boring you with this junk."  
"I _said _keep going," he ordered, glancing around the curtain. There was a short pause, then she laughed.  
"Fine, fine. I'll keep going." Draco settled back in his bed and listened. "And if I only could that you might go, ever upon a road-side where the lands are sheltered, and the ways hold no regret; I see you down a lane where lilacs blow, the sunlight on your head and in your hands... While I remember, dear--and you forget." He stared up at the ceiling.  
"That... that was really pretty."  
"I know." Meagan leaned back to look at Draco, a blue hardbound book in her hands. "So how are things on the other side of the curtain?" He rolled his eyes and shifted a little.  
"Oh, it's just grand. We're having a party. Woo hoo." She laughed quietly.  
"You don't have to be so sarcastic, Mr. Untouchable." Draco scowled up at the ceiling, then turned his frown on Meagan.  
"What do you mean 'Mr. Untouchable'?" She shrugged and began flipping through her book. He caught the title of it; Verse of Our Day, an Anthology.  
"You always act like you're so high above everyone else. Like it would kill you to actually relax a bit. But then," Meagan admitted with a sigh, "I'm not exactly a psychiatrist, so I wouldn't take my advice too seriously." Draco opened his mouth to protest further but was interuppted by a long, pathetic wail.  
"Oh, _Draco!_" The door flew open to reveal Pansy Parkinson, who was whimpering and twisting a handkerchief dramatically. He bit back a groan. Pansy didn't exactly have a comforting bedside manner.  
  
The pug-faced girl dashed over to his bed and threw her arms around his neck.  
"Oh, Draco, I was so _scared _when that big beast hurt you! It nearly _killed _you! I _do _hope you're feeling better, Draco, I'll simply _die _if you're not well enough to play in the first Quidditch game--" Draco wiggled frantically, trying to get out of Pansy's reach.  
"Stop it, woman, you're going to hurt my arm!" She jumped back almost immediately, putting her hands over her mouth.  
"I'm so sorry! Are you all right? I didn't mean--"  
"I'm fine, Pansy," he said in a low voice, hoping Meagan couldn't hear. Pansy gave a long, shuddering sigh and twisted the handkerchief again.  
"I don't know who put that great brute Hagrid in charge. It was all _his _fault. The animals were too cruel to handle, and he nearly killed you--oh, _Draco_, I was so _worried_..." Draco sighed, readying the fallen hero act. Sure it would usher Pansy from the room, he set up a wail, but stopped when his ears caught concealed laughter. Pansy heard it too. "Who's that?" she asked slowly, dropping her concerned manner like a hot potato. He gave the curtain a brief glance.  
"No one," he said casually, but Pansy was already heading for the strung-up sheet. She ripped it back. Meagan sat in her bed, poem book in her lap, her face turning red from the pent up laughter. When she saw Pansy, she let it all out in a camouflaged snort that might've passed for a cough.  
"Hi," Meagan said, fighting a grin. Pansy's eyes hardened.  
"Who's this?" she ordered, whirling to Draco. He glanced at Meagan, who was trying her hardest not to snicker, then bit back his own laughter and said,  
"I believe she knows her name. Ask her yourself." Pansy spun back to Meagan and huffed angrily.  
"Well?" The girl in the bed merely beamed up at her.  
"Meagan Wiebler. Nice to meet with a fellow Slytherin." Parkinson seemed to stop, then gave a toss of her head.  
"Hmph." She turned back to Draco. "I didn't know there was someone else here!" she hissed, looking rather like a rabid dog. Draco flicked his gaze to Meagan, who was apparently giggling into her hand. Pansy seethed and gave his shoulder a smack. "Look at_ me!"_  
"Ow!" he complained, rubbing his arm. "Honestly, Pansy, you're going to send me into relapse!" Another huge snort of laughter was heard, and Pansy gritted her teeth.  
"I came here to check on your arm!" She raised her hand as if to smack him again, then sighed and put it over her eyes. "I was worried." She sniffed loudly. Draco rolled his eyes.  
"Come now, Pansy, don't go into theatrics, please--"  
"I'm _serious!"_ She resumed twisting her handkerchief. "I just couldn't stay away any longer. I thought my heart was going to simply _explode _with concern." Meagan let out a series of coughs that sounded remarkably like,  
"Bullshit!" Draco couldn't help it; he let out a snort of laughter. Pansy whirled on the girl in the bed.  
"You! You horrid, awful--" Meagan just smiled pleasantly up at her. Pansy found this distracting and lost track of her insults. "--terrible, hurtful... um... selfish... um..."  
"Go on. I believe you were saying something about selfish." Parkinson just stared at her, then finally let out a frustrated growl and stomped the ground a few times.  
"This isn't... It's not..."  
"You're doing fine, Pansy!" cried Meagan, clapping her hands. "Just keep going and eventually you'll reach three words!" Pansy shot her a glare that could've withered a flower, then strutted over to Draco.  
"I don't think I can stand another moment in here with this--this horrid _girl_." Meagan gasped and put the back of her hand to her forehead in mock despair.  
"Oh, ouch! It pains me when you say things like that, Pansy!" Parkinson went on, undaunted, and moved closer to Draco.  
"I hope you're feeling better, and I'll see you when you return to class," she said silkily, then did something neither Meagan nor Draco had expected. Pansy pulled Draco forward and pressed her lips to his. Almost immediately, he made a sound of surprise and shoved her away. Pansy stumbled across the room, but had achieved what she wanted to; both of the patients looked absolutely shocked. She smirked and smoothed her hair. "Like I said. I'll see you." And with that, she pranced out of the hospital wing.  
  
Meagan was being rather quiet. Draco sat in his bed, stunned, then finally shook his head.  
"Wow. That was... really... disturbing." He glanced at Meagan, who was staring down at her book silently. "Meagan?" Suddenly, she let out another burst of giggles.  
" 'When the frost is on the pumpkin and the fodder's in the shock, you can hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock...' " She snorted with laughter. "I think that pretty much describes what just happened here." Draco glanced over at her, then chuckled.  
"Yeah. She kyoucked and gobbled quite well, if I do say so myself." They laughed a little more about Pansy, then quieted down when Pomfrey rushed in and threatened to call Snape upstairs. Meagan and Draco exchanged glances, then settled back as the nurse pulled the curtain between them once again.  
  
Meagan made a sudden movement behind the curtain and groaned slightly.  
"Mm. Ow." Draco blinked a bit, rather sleepy from all the bedrest.  
"Hm?"  
"My stomach hurts. Mm. Ow!" Meagan sighed. "I'll have to ask for a glass of water in a while. I'm getting rather parched." She grunted a bit. Draco peered past the gap in the curtain, glimpsing her wiggling fingers. "I... I can't reach the... ow! The curtain's too far."  
"Just let it alone," he advised after trying to reach himself, "Pomfrey can come in later and get it." There was a brief moment of silence.  
"So... did you like it?"  
"Like what?" Meagan shifted uncomfortably.  
"Well... Pansy's kiss." Draco blinked.  
"Um..." Before he could answer, the door whipped open once again. Draco couldn't celebrate the relief of not having to answer, because he was worried it was Pansy. It was someone completely different.  
It was Snape.  
  
"Draco," Snape said calmly, shutting the door behind him, "I wanted to check up on you."  
"Thank you, Professor. I was so worried you wouldn't come." Draco rolled his eyes. Snape simply gave him a cool smile. Draco was the Seeker of the team, and as long as he would play, Snape would put up with him.  
"And how is your arm, Mr. Malfoy?"  
"Oh, better, better." The Professor nodded.  
"Good, and--" He stopped, black eyes suddenly noticing the curtain. "What's this?" He pulled it back a bit. Meagan, who seemed to have been watching them intently, looked quickly back to her book.  
"If on this night of still, white cold, I can remember May-- Oh, hello, Professor!" She glanced up in mock surprise. "I had absolutely _no idea_ you were here!"  
"Wiebler," he said with a bit of a chill to his voice, "I didn't know you were sharing a room with Mr. Malfoy." He glanced at Draco briefly. "I would've waited for a better time to come."  
"It's just _lovely _to see you too!" she commented brightly, closing her book. Snape's lip curled slowly. Draco glanced at him in surprise. This was odd. He'd never seen Snape act so cold towards a Slytherin.  
  
"And why, might I ask, are you indisposed?" Meagan sobered and stared down at her sheets.  
"Charms accident," she said softly. Snape smirked.  
"Ah. I see." Draco glared at his Professor's back, but quickly stopped when Snape turned towards him again. "Will you be well enough to play in the first Quidditch match, Draco?"  
"I might," he said faintly, working his arm a bit. Snape nodded again and looked back towards Meagan, who'd been making faces behind his back. She beamed up at him.  
"I want Mr. Malfoy here to make a full recovery. So if I find that you've been prolonging his absence by using up his strength--" Snape's lip curled again. "--I shall see to it that you will be properly punished." Meagan looked solemn as she stared up at him, fiddling with her sheets. Then she grinned and threw her arms around Snape's waist in something of a hug.  
"And I love you too, Professor!"  
  
Snape jumped away, looking rather disgusted. Draco snickered. The Professor looked at him, then said quickly,  
"I shall see you in Potions soon, Mr. Malfoy. Good day." With a quick glance at Meagan, he closed the door behind him. Luckily, he'd left the curtain pulled back, so Draco turned to look at Meagan. She was snickering into her hand.  
"Boy, he really hates me!" She giggled and opened her book again. "Yep, there's the high point of my day." Draco grinned.  
"You're not exactly popular in Slytherin, are you?" Meagan shook her head.  
"Nope. I don't think I"m quite pale and sun-deprived enough for them." With a bit of a sigh, she drew up the shade and stuck her face in the sunlight. "But another month in here and I'll fit in rather well."


	4. The Curtain: Part 4

"Draco... Draco, wake up!" He rolled over, away from the annoying voice and prodding fingers.  
"Not time to wake up," he mumbled, burying his head in his pillow, "Time to sleep."  
"Draco, you lazy little bugger! It's 4 bloody 30 in the afternoon and you're laying there like a rock! Wake _up!"_ Draco ignored the orders and drifted back to sleep. He shot up with a snort at a few sudden pokes to his sides.  
"Gah-ah!" Meagan grinned at him, leaning against the side of his bed.  
"Oh, good. You're awake." Draco scowled, fixing his blankets.  
"Gee, why _ever _would I be awake? Could it be that someone was so rudely _poking _me while I slept?" She raised her eyebrows.  
"You're talking about _me?_" Meagan leaned closer, grin widening. "It was a lucky guess. I didn't know you were ticklish." She gave his side another poke and he wiggled uncomfortably.  
"I'm not ticklish!" he declared indignantly. Meagan rolled her eyes and prodded his stomach.  
"Sure you are." Draco squeaked (flushing red as he did so) and was ready to come back with another insult when she waved her hand in dismissal. "But that's not the point. The point is that you are sleeping at 4:30 in the afternoon. A big Quidditch star isn't supposed to be sleeping so late." He smirked a bit and pointed out,  
"And an obnoxious smart aleck isn't supposed to be out of bed either." Meagan drummed her fingers on his sheets.  
"Hm. Good point." Giving him one last poke, she scrambled back to her bed and pulled the sheets up to her chest. "Thanks for reminding me."  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and settled back, glad to now be out of poking range.  
"Did you actually have anything to _tell _me, or was it just the thrill of making me squeak?"  
"I have something to tell you. The squeaking was just a bonus." Meagan carefully positioned her arms behind her head and glanced at him. "It's about your name." He blinked.  
"My name?" he echoed, blinking again.  
"I believe that's what I said," she said impatiently, going on without waiting for comments, "I like to read, as you probably figured. But I like to write too. That makes me an English buff."  
"I imagine it would," Draco said drily, smirking.  
"Oh, shut up. Anyway, I figured your entire name from Latin and English prefixes--"  
"And what does it mean, O Great and Powerful Wizard of Language?"  
"I'm getting there, I'm getting there. Now--"  
"Let me whip out my horn-rimmed glasses and I'll be all set," Draco snickered. Meagan made a frustrated noise and pounded her blankets.  
"Oh, stop it!" she shrieked, shaking her head in exasperation. "I hate being interuppted! _Hate _it! Now_ stoppit!_" Draco blinked, then snickered.  
"My, what a touchy area. Fine, fine, go on. What does my name mean?" Meagan sighed, calming abruptly, and relished the conquest.  
"A dragon's bad mistake." He sat there a moment, then snapped his head over to her.  
_"What?!" _Suddenly enveloped in snickers, she managed,  
"A dragon's bad mistake. 'Draco' is Latin for dragon, 'mal-' can generally mean bad, and 'foy' can roughly be translated as a mistake. So I'm in the hospital wing, the next bed over from a dragon's bad mistake!" That struck her as incredibly funny, and she collapsed back on her bed in giggles. Draco scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.  
"It's not that hilarious," he muttered, pale face reddening slightly at the sudden revelation.  
"Is so!" Meagan shot back almost immediately, still laughing heartily. "A dragon's bad mistake... that's _rich_..."  
"Is _not_," he protested, glaring at her. The frown didn't dampen her spirit.  
"Oh my goodness," she snickered, "That was better than I thought it would be!" Draco rubbed at his cheek awkwardly.  
"Oh, shut up." Meagan, overcoming her giggles, grinned at him.  
"Don't feel bad. I know what it's like to have a weird name."  
"Yeah," he retorted, pointing at her as he worked his advantage. "Little Miss Wiebler." The girl stuck her tongue out.  
"Hey, I tried to be nice. You didn't want to--" Meagan stopped abruptly, choking back a cough. Draco straightened a little, glancing at the door. She shook her head as she covered her mouth, motioning at him with her other hand. He frowned at her.  
"Meagan--"  
"Don't," she warned, coughing harder. Draco waited a moment, staring down at his hands. Meagan kept coughing. He hesitated a while longer, then shook his head.  
"Madame Pomfrey!" he bellowed, and in rushed the white-clad nurse. As the potion was offered, Meagan took it from the nurse, a slight scowl lingering on her brows. A dark look was sent at Draco, but she downed the green liquid and the coughs were siilenced.  
  
The infirmiry room was quiet, the curtain being drawn between the two yet again. Draco fiddled with his fingers uncomfortably, then spoke up.  
"I'm sorry," he murmured. There was a long silence.  
"I didn't want you to call her." Her voice was quiet with a touch of disdain.  
"What did you want me to do; sit here while you coughed to death?" Draco cleared his throat as his voice cracked. "I did what I thought was right!"  
"I'm tired of that potion," Meagan muttered, the blankets on her side shifting. "I'm tired of that woman rushing in and forcing it down my throat. For once-- just once-- I'd like to beat it on my own." There was a long, awkward pause. Draco lowered his eyes to the sheets.  
"I'm sorry," he murmured again. Yet another hesitation.  
"S'all right." Meagan spoke at last, quietly. "S'not your fault. You did what you thought you should." Draco grinned weakly, feeling relieved.  
"That sounds familiar." Meagan snickered.  
"Oh, shut up."  
  
Meagan and Draco talked a little while longer, neither one of them able to reach the curtain. All mistakes had been forgiven, and the two cracked jokes and swapped stories until Madame Pomfrey came in for the third time and screeched that if they wouldn't be quiet, she'd send them to the Forbidden Forest as werewolf food.  
  
Then it all went straight to Hell.  
  
Draco awoke to a loud, harsh hacking so early in the morning that the sky was an uneasy gray. He blinked in surprise, ready to yell for help, until he realized that Madame Pomfrey was already there. He could see her plump shadow against the curtain, with two others. One tall and skinny, another shorter with a harsh profile. Dumbledore and Snape. Draco fell back to the pillow, pretending to be asleep. Meagan kept coughing.  
"Madame Pomfrey, can't you give her something?"  
"I tried! I tried! The elixer isn't working!"  
"Calm down, the both of you!" Dumbledore's voice softened as he waved his wand over the girl in the bed. The coughing covered up the words, but Draco knew it was a spell. Meagan's hacking slowed, then stopped. She didn't speak; it seemed she was sleeping. Her breath was harsh and ragged. All three adults breathed a sigh of relief.  
"Good work, Albus." There was a pause. Snape spoke up.  
"She's getting worse."  
"Indeed," murmured Dumbledore. Another long pause.  
"Is there nothing you can give her?"  
"No, the Ministry hasn't figured it out yet. And Muggle medicine for it is hard to find."  
"So she'll--" Snape's voice halted, then quieted. "There's nothing...?"  
"No, Severus. If there was a way to help, I would. It seems there's--" Dumbledore stopped himself as well. Madame Pomfrey glanced about, then spoke softly.  
"We'd better go. Let her sleep." The adults, dark shadows in the dim light, filed out from behind the curtain and headed out the door. Dumbledore and Snape lingered at the edge of Draco's bed. The Slytherin professor looked at Dumbledore while Draco watched through a cracked eyelid. When Snape spoke, his voice was almost inaudible.  
"What will we tell the boy?"  
"...he'll learn. In time." And then they walked out of the room silently, leaving Draco to listen to the night sounds and Meagan's strained breathing.


	5. The Curtain: Part 5

In the darkened infirmary, all Draco could hear was Meagan's irregular breathing. He lay in bed, working his arm slowly. It didn't hurt much, but it seemed to have fallen asleep. _At least something can fall asleep around here._ He heard Meagan's teeth chattering as she fought the fever. He didn't want to stay, but somehow he knew he couldn't leave either.  
  
After a few moments more of shivering and ragged breathing, Meagan let out a shuddery breath and sang softly to herself. From the way she spoke each lyric, soft and solemn, it seemed more like a prayer than a song. Grasping for hope. For life.  
"Hush a b-bye... don't you... cry..." She paused to shiver a little and moan, then went on. "G-go to sleep now, little...baby." Draco turned to look at her, pulling his arm from its sling. "When you wake... you'll have c-c-cake..." Her eyes stared up at the ceiling blankly as she finished the song. "...and all the p-p-pretty little horses..." Meagan suddenly realized Draco was watching her. She shifted to look at him, smiling weakly. "You're awake." He nodded.  
"You were singing." Meagan frowned.  
"Did I w-wake you? I'm--" A violent shudder ran through her body. "Mm. I'm sorry."  
"No, you didn't wake me." Draco sat up. She tried a crooked grin, drawing the blankets tight around her.  
"Mm... Go back to... s-sleep." He could tell she was lost in the heat of the fever; her face was flushed, but she shivered furiously. Draco frowned.  
"Do you want Pomfrey to come in?"  
"N-no, I'm f-f-fine." Meagan's voice was quiet and halting, cut off by the shudders. She exhaled shakily, then let out a small sob. "Draco, I'm scared. I'm s-s-so cold, and my stomach h-hurts." Draco scowled down at his sling, dropping it on the floor.  
"I'm... I'm sorry." She shivered hard, fingers gripping the sheets until they turned white.  
"I really wish you c-could come over here. I'm kind of l-lonely, but you can't get sick." Meagan's voice lowered to a whisper. "It's a-awful." Draco flexed his arm, sliding from the bed.  
"I bet." Her bedsheets shuffled.  
"You c-can't come over here. Madame Pomfrey said--" He pulled the curtain to the side.  
"If I'm going to catch it, I'm going to catch it. A curtain won't make any difference." She gave him a feeble smile, which he didn't return.  
"Are you s-s-sure?"  
"I'll risk it," he murmured, scooting a stool towards her bed. Meagan stared up at him solemnly, not making any noise aside from her shivering. The blue of her eyes seemed only a thin veil over what was inside.  
"Draco, why did you l-let the curtain st-st-stay up?" Draco frowned slightly.  
"What do you mean? I pulled it--"  
"N-not that curtain," she whispered, taking hold of his hand. He was surprised at how clammy it was. "The one in-inside." He swallowed.  
"I... I don't understand." Meagan closed her eyes as another shudder racked her body.  
"You've put up a c-curtain, Draco. A curtain over your h-h-heart. And no one can see past that curtain." He glanced away. She stared up at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to do something. When he didn't, she tightened her grip on Draco's hand. "It's n-not right to shield your heart l-like that. Y-you may think it p-p-protects you, but it doesn't. It h-hurts." He blinked several times.  
"But I don't--"  
"L-let me finish," she insisted. Meagan struggled to sit up, ignoring Draco's attempts to keep her laying down.  
"You could--"  
"You can't keep hiding y-your heart. Be-because love can't get through a c-c-curtain, Draco." She put both hands over his fist. "And that's all I'm t-trying to say. D-do you understand?" Dumbfounded, he nodded. Meagan smiled weakly and uncurled his fingers. Then she brought his palm to her lips and placed a gentle kiss on it. "G-good." Draco, lost for words, simply nodded. She let go of his hand and leaned back on her pillow, suddenly looking serious.   
  
"They're taking me home," Meagan whispered. Draco blinked, startled.  
"What?" She glanced away, out the window.  
"M-my parents. They said they w-wanted me to come home for the f-f-fresh air, but..." She gave a rather wry smile. "...I don't think that's the r-r-reason why." He winced at her words.  
"They probably want you to see your dog," he suggested quietly. Meagan looked back towards him and softened her smile.  
"...maybe." After a moment, she glanced down and began fiddling with her sheets. "D-draco, I know how much you r-r-resent Potter and the rest, but I'm warning y-you now--_don't do something you'll regret. _Because once you d-do something, once it happens, you c-c-can't take it back. It's etched in st-stone then, Draco. _Don't do something you'll regret._" Draco blinked, then nodded.  
"All right." She nodded too, then settled back in her bed.  
"G-good." She grinned slightly. "Goodness, I s-sound like P-p-professor Trelawney, d-don't I?" He smiled a little.  
"Predicting the future, are you?"   
"Perhaps." Meagan shivered hard again, then closed her eyes. "Mm. I'm so c-c-cold." After waiting for a moment, he pressed a finger to her forehead awkwardly. It was burning hot.  
"Sleep," he whispered. She opened her eyes and watched him quietly. Finally, she spoke.  
"G-g-good night, Draco. I'll s-see you in the m--" Meagan bit her lip as the word got stuck in her throat. "Mm. In the m-morning."  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, I believe you can go to class now." Madame Pomfrey's disapproving voice startled him from dreams of shadows and faces he couldn't remember.  
"What do you--" Draco stopped as he realized his arm had been out of its sling all night. "--oh. I suppose... what time is it?"  
"Nearly 10:30 in the morning," she responded briskly, crossing over to the curtain. She ripped it back. Meagan was gone. He sat up.  
"Where is she?" Pomfrey looked up.  
"Miss Wiebler? She... she left this morning. Were you--you didn't talk to her, did you?" Draco scowled, staring at the empty bed. Left, or _left?_  
"Did you expect me to just sit here and grow fungus?" He lowered his voice. "What really happened?" She pretended not to hear. "Madame Pomfrey, where is she?"  
"Her parents came and took her this morning. Around 6:00." He couldn't help but notice how she kept her eyes lowered. But what could he do? Draco certainly wasn't going to ask whether she was dead when they left. He sat in the bed quietly, staring at Meagan's sheets, still crumpled from use. Then he saw something.  
"Madame Pomfrey, what's that?" Pomfrey glanced up.  
"What's--" Her gaze caught the paper stuck between the sheets. She darted over and seized the note. "It's nothing." Draco heaved himself from bed and moved swiftly towards the nurse.  
"It's not nothing, it's _something_. What have you got there?" Madame Pomfrey held the paper above her head.  
"It's _nothing_," she insisted, bustling away, "and it's none of your business." Taking quick action, he bolted to the door and blocked the exit.  
"It is every bit my business," he growled, eyes flicking to the note in her hand, "especially considering my name is on the front." Pomfrey looked pensive, then handed over an unsealed envelope and a sheet of paper.  
"Gather your things. I want you ready to leave by the time your Potions class starts." She nudged him from the frame and disappeared out the door.  
  
The moment the nurse left, Draco flicked his gaze to the envelope. His name was scrawled clearly across the front in blue ink. Setting it down on the bed gently, he glanced to the paper and began reading. The hand was written in blue, but it was shaky and slightly smeared.  
_Dear Draco,  
I'm not sure how long this is going to last, but hopefully my 'going home' will come soon. Naturally, I do regret this disease being placed upon me, but I don't regret your injury. Perhaps that 'stupid beast' had a purpose after all--I never would've met you, had it not hurt your arm. Maybe everything has a reason for happening. I hope so. I don't want my departure to be for nothing. I don't want this letter to be a lecture either, so I'll be brief. There was a curtain between us for a while, Draco, and I don't think it's there anymore. You ripped down the curtain for me. You can do it for others too. Don't let a curtain shield your heart, Draco--because a curtain is only a sheet. And a sheet can't protect it. I'm not completely sure I understand this, but I certainly hope you do. Goodbye, Draco. I hope I'll see you next year.  
_

All my love,  
Meagan  


  
Draco stared at the note, then peered into the envelope. Inside was a yellowed piece of paper, ragged at the edges. It looked as if it had been ripped out. It was from Meagan's poem book.  


_Song  
How do I love you?  
I do not know.  
Only because of you  
Gladly I go.  
Only because of you  
Labour is sweet,  
And all the song of you  
Sings in my feet.  
Only the thought of you  
Trembles and lies  
Just where the world begins--  
Under my eyes._  


  
He read the words over and over until a sound at the doorway made him jump and glance up. It was Pomfrey. Her eyes were watery.  
"Her lungs couldn't take it," she said quietly. "They filled with fluid and she couldn't breathe. She went peacefully, in her sleep. Early this morning." Draco simply stared down at the poem as Pomfrey placed a hand on his shoulder. "She won't suffer anymore," she whispered, squeezing gently.  
"I'll be out in a moment, Madame Pomfrey," he said calmly, folding the poem and putting it in his pocket, "Just let me get my things. Wouldn't want to keep Professor Snape waiting, would we?" Pomfrey waited a moment, then drew back.  
"All right. If you need to talk, though--"  
"It won't be necessary, Madame Pomfrey. Goodbye." He heard her steps retreat from the room. Inside, the anger was boiling up. It was unjust, unfair, _not right..._ She shouldn't have been taken... She wasn't done _living _yet...  
  
In a single movement, he picked up the last green potion from the shelf and slammed it into the wall behind Meagan's old bed. It shattered into a million pieces and fell to the mattress like a flurry of snowflakes. Through the tears in his eyes, Draco watched the green liquid soak into the pillow. Then he calmly dragged the back of his hand over his eyes and turned to leave. He stepped on the sling. Staring down at it, he wiggled his fingers. It didn't look good enough. Quickly, Draco bound his arm heavily in bandages and placed the sling over his head. He settled his limb into it and put on a brave face. Potter and his cronies would see what he'd been through in this room, even if his arm had healed. He started to stride out, then stopped abruptly. Draco turned carefully and picked up the letter, placing it tenderly in his pocket. Then, with the air of a war hero, he left the infirmary. The room was empty, save for the cots and the broken glass. He never looked back.  
  
That day, the curtain around Draco Malfoy's heart was drawn tight and sewn shut.


End file.
